Hopelessness
by Daeonia
Summary: Sansa Stark's unexpected first kiss in her captivity, and the day she fell into hopelessness. Alternate events of ACOK.


**THE KISS**

* * *

_These characters belong to George RR Martin, and not to me. I know I'm not supposed to write fanfiction, but he does it himself with those "Wild Cards". So read and review if you like._

* * *

Sansa Stark was filled with unease. Not an hour ago, she had been summoned to the inner bailey by the King, and she knew he was not pleased. He had sent Sandor Clegane to fetch her, and she had even dressed in the blue gown she knew was the King's favorite. Sansa hurried to keep up with the Hound's strides as he conducted her through the Red Keep. The man was coarse and rough-tongued as always, but something in the way he had looked at her made her anxious. She walked on the Hound's left, where she didn't need to see the hideous burn scars on his face.

"Tell me, what have I done?"

"Not you. I imagine it's your kingly brother."

"Robb's a traitor." Sansa knew the words by heart. _Gods be good, don't let it be the Kingslayer, _she thought. "I have no part in whatever he did."

The Hound shook his head. "They trained you well, little bird."

In the lower bailey of the Red Keep, a crowd had already gathered around the archery butts. Both courtiers and serving folk were murmuring apprehensively. Men moved aside to let them through. Loitering stableboys and servant girls eyed her insolently, while Ser Horas Redwyne dropped his gaze as she passed by and his brother Hobber pretended not to see her. A yellow cat was dying on the cobblestones, mewling hideously, blood pooling around its shattered body. The King oft delighted in dropping cats from the high towers of the Red Keep. Sansa stepped around the broken creature, feeling sick.

Ser Dontos came hopping on his broomstick horse; since he'd been too drunk to mount his steed on the tourney, the King had decreed that henceforth he must always go horsed. "Be brave," he mouthed at her, giving her arm a squeeze.

King Joffrey stood in the centre of the throng, clad in a red silk doublet and crimson cloak. He was flanked by Ser Boros Blount and Ser Meryn Trant, and the sight of them made her shudder.

"Your Grace." Sansa dropped to her knees.

"Kneeling won't save you now," Joffrey said. A slight smile passed on the boy's handsome face.

"Your Grace, whatever my treacherous brother did, I had no part – "

"Get her up."

The Hound pulled her up to her feet. His hands were gentle for such a strong man.

"Lancel," Joffrey said to his cousin and friend, "tell her of this outrage."

Sansa had always thought Lancel Lannister handsome and well-spoken, but there was neither pity not kindness in the scornful look he gave her. "Using some foul sorcery, your brother fell upon my uncle Ser Stafford Lannister with an army of wargs. Thousands of good men were slaughtered as they slept, without the chance to lift a sword. After the butchery, the Northmen feasted on the flesh of the dead."

Icy fingers of terror gripped Sansa's heart.

"You Starks are as unnatural as those wolves of yours," Joffrey said. "I'd kill you, but if I do Mother says they'll kill my uncle Jaime. So I don't know what to do." He fell silent, seemingly deep in thought. He said nothing for a while, and no one amongst the crowd spoke up. Sansa wondered what he was thinking. She could sense the Hound looking at her, in an almost reassuring way. Joffrey's cold green eyes lit up with amusement.

"Dog, give her a kiss."

Sansa's eyes widened in shock. _What? Did I hear him say that?_

A murmur swept through the crowd. The onlookers in the bailey were surprised and amused as well, and Lancel looked at his kingly cousin as though he was jesting. But he wasn't.

Sansa's throat tightened, and a sickening knot formed in her chest. _I'll never kiss him. _She had always imagined her first kiss would be with someone comely and noble, a loving man. _Gods be good, not like this..._Now it would be a mockery for all to see. The Hound looked at least as stunned as her. His burned face was even more hideously twisted than usual, and his eyes blazed with anger over the humiliation. He glared at the young King and did not take a step towards Sansa. The entire crowd was watching him and her.

Overcome by panic, Sansa began pleading with the cruel boy. "Your Grace, please, I cannot do this – "

"I am your King and I command you to do it," Joffrey snapped. "What are you waiting for?"

Neither the Hound nor Sansa made a move. His burn-scarred face reflected her own crippling dread.

"Come on, Sansa, only one kiss and I'll leave you be," Joffrey said. "I know he likes you."

Lancel smiled and added, "And haven't we all seen the way you look at him?"

Waves of cold fear washing over her, Sansa began whimpering, "It's…it's not like that…"

"_Do it now!_"

"Your Grace…I…I can't…"

Furious, Joffrey commanded Ser Meryn to hit her. The knight stepped up behind Sansa in a casual manner and unsheathed his sword. With the flat side, he struck a blow across her back. Pain seared through her body like red-hot fire, and Sansa screamed when the vicious blow knocked the breath out of her. It left a red line of blood on the back of her blue gown. She sank down to her knees, gasping as her flesh burned. Determined not to weep in front of Joffrey, she got on her feet.

"If you do not kiss when I count to ten, I'll have Ser Meryn break your knees."

"One…"

Beads of sweat formed on the Hound's brow and he stared down at his feet. But Sansa was looking right at him with pleading eyes, her lower lip trembling.

"Two…"

All eyes in the courtyard were fixed on them.

"Three…"

"Four…"

The Hound took a tentative step forward. He drew a deep breath and wiped the sweat away from his brow. Then he began walking towards Sansa. Everyone was watching them. As the distance between them shrunk, the Hound closed his eyes. He bend his knees slightly, so his head would be on a level with hers. No one, not even Joffrey, uttered a sound. "I'm sorry," he said under his breath.

Before everyone's gaze, their lips met.

It was an oddly soft and gentle kiss. _My first kiss, _she thought numbly. _My first time, and it's with the Hound. _The small part of her that wasn't frozen with disgust and crippling shame saw that Sandor was as mortified as her. He was sweating and trembling while their lips locked. While she was overcome by complete revulsion at him, she noticed his lips tasted like strongwine. Breathing through his nose, Sandor dared to slowly open his eyes and gaze into hers. Sansa's eyes were still wide open in despair.

And at that moment, something changed. Her heart began beating faster, thumping in her chest. A fluttering sensation like butterflies passed through her belly. Part of her hoped Sandor would rescue her from this. Maybe it was a ray of hope shining from the depths of her black despair. _Please, do something, _she thought. His eyes widened too; he must have realized she was pleading with him. The moments passed, and she continued staring into Sandor's eyes in mute appeal.

"You truly are enjoying this, aren't you?" The sneering boyish voice brought them back to reality, and their kiss broke off. It had gone on for longer than they'd intended. The crowd tittered and jeered at her. Joffrey asked, "Clegane, how did you like the little she-wolf?"

"A dog kissing a dog," Lancel observed with a snort.

Sansa looked over at the Hound, and saw his face was dark with fury. She knew how filled with wrath he must be. He walked away from her, as though he wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and pushed his way out of the crowd. Boros made an attempt to stop him, but the Hound shoved him aside roughly and left the courtyard in a rage. The onlookers remained, watching Sansa.

"You _do_ look like you enjoyed it, Sansa," Joffrey smirked. "Perhaps you're wet with love?"

The King's hand reached out and grabbed Sansa between the thighs. His fingers roughly groped her sex through the silken gown. "Stop it!" she cried out and recoiled from his touch. Joffrey laughed at her, then Lancel laughed too, and Ser Horas and Hobber. Soon the entire crowd in the bailey joined in the mockery, for the when the King laughs, his court laughs with him. "What did I say?" Joffrey told his cousin triumphantly. Sansa couldn't hold back the tears now, and began weeping openly. She spun around and walked away, but Boros and Meryn blocked her path. Joffrey beckoned to them to let her leave. Warm tears spilling down her cheeks, Sansa stormed across the cobblestones of the bailey and back toward her bedchamber.

She would drown out all hope now.


End file.
